


The Beauty Marks

by A_Mild_Sort_of_Orgy



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Break Up, Gen, Masami - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Mild_Sort_of_Orgy/pseuds/A_Mild_Sort_of_Orgy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asami Sato knows when someone is in love with the idea of her. - A post "Out of the Past" Masami break up fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beauty Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Bryke and Nickelodeon own Legend of Korra and all the characters I've fallen in love with.
> 
> Whelp, I know that there are going to be a ton of Masami break up fics coming in this week. I mean, after "Out of the Past" it definitely seems like something is going to happen! Here's my take on it. The title comes from the Old 97's song of the same name, which I was listening to as I started writing.

Asami Sato knew when someone was in love with the idea of her. Her beauty has marked her from a young age and Asami thought she had come to terms with it a long time ago. Objectively, she knew she was stunning – flawless complexion, brilliant green eyes, silky, slightly wavy hair. Her presumed inheritance hadn't hurt her either. She can't firebend, but Asami knows it doesn't matter. Her looks, wealth, and _niceness_ are an explosive combination.

 Asami stares into the mirror, her eyes fixed on her own deep red lips. She knows how to use cosmetics to enhance her natural beauty; she'd learned from watching her mother all those years ago. Her gaze shifts to the reflection of her eyes, smoky beneath the eye shadow and kohl. Sometimes she used to wish she wasn't as intelligent as she knows she is. It would have been so much easier to be just a pretty face.

Her father's betrayal wouldn't have hurt nearly so much. She wouldn't have known any better.

Mako's lies wouldn't have been so obvious.

 Asami clenches her fist around the hair brush she doesn't remember picking up. She's determined not to cry over him. Laying the hairbrush down with a soft thunk, Asami stands abruptly. It is time.

 Mako isn't terribly difficult to find. Since they'd brought Korra back to the island, battered and bruised, but in one piece, Mako seemed to regain control of himself. Asami had half expected him to install himself in Korra's room, taking over nursing duties in the same way he'd single-mindedly led the search party. But Mako had never been that easy to read and so Asami had been surprised by the way he'd taken her arm at Korra's door and led her to her bedroom without a single look back.

 She would have doubted her own resolve if she hadn't felt the tremble in his arm and the hesitance in his step.

 Asami finds him exactly where she expects to, on the cliff edge facing the city. The wind ruffles his hair and her chest begins to burn, the words and thoughts and suspicions crowding into her throat. She had honestly thought she could love him, the firebender boy who still wore his dead father's scarf. She'd fallen for his devotion, unaware that she wouldn't be the only girl who had it.

 “Mako,” she says quietly, drawing his attention away from the still smoking city. It is the calm before the storm, this brief respite on the island. Even now, Amon and the Equalists are regrouping for their assault on Republic City. Asami knows this is the worst time to do this, but with the threats hanging over them, it may be the only time.

 Mako's gaze sweeps over her face and Asami shivers as he looks away. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he says in a near whisper, so softly she has to take a step toward him to catch it. She's already violated her acceptable nearness resolve.

 “Mako,” she says again, her voice lilting slightly.

 “Bolin told me he told you. He's terrible with secrets.” Mako's voice is resigned and flat. Asami's laugh is brittle.

 “No kidding. You'd think he'd have picked up some tips from you.” Asami bites her lips to hold back more words. She hadn't meant to say that. Mako looks sharply at her, his eyes catching the light for a moment so they glow in the sunset.

 “Yeah, you'd think,” he answers slowly, accepting the jab. “So what now?”

 “Why did I have to hear it from Bolin? Why didn't you tell me?” She needs and doesn't need to know the answer.

 “Why did you ask him and not me?”

 “I... well, Ikki said something and well, I mean, I saw how she looked at you, but I knew you were with me and I didn't think you...” The explanation leaves her red faced and gasping, and a strange part of her is amused that this is what upset her carefully planned interrogation. Tears press against her eyelids and she blocks out the sight of him and his calm concern. It takes her a moment to realize again that he's the one in the wrong, the one who should be embarrassed.

 “I'm sorry,” Mako says earnestly, and she opens her eyes to see that he's moved closer to her, is reaching for her. She folds her arms across her chest and backs away from him.

 “Do you like Korra, Mako? Did the kiss mean anything?” She asks, returning to the things she'd told herself she needed to know, her voice hard. Mako stops short, panic flashing across his features. Asami thinks it might be the first time he realizes she might not be here to reconcile.

 “Does it matter?” He asks carefully. “I chose you.”

 Asami squeezes her eyes shut again. It's so much easier if she doesn't look at him, doesn't remember what she did with him. “I don't really think you did.”

 “Asami,” he sighs, slipping his arms around her. It would be so easy to lean into him, accept that she had been his choice, and look the other way from the smiles and the damned concern her boyfriend and the Avatar ooze at each other. She shakes herself free of his grasp and steels herself against the hurt in his eyes. He deserves to feel it, she reminds herself.

 “You didn't answer the question,” she says, determined to hold his gaze this time. He is the one who looks away first.

 “You didn't answer mine first. What happens now?” He demands, eyes back on the city.

 She watches him with her heart in her throat and her stomach in her shoes. He is an explosive combination too, but nothing about him is nice. He is hard and harsh and handsome and dear heavens, she wishes she didn't have to choose between sharing him and letting him go. “I think we need to break up, Mako.”

 “Why?” He sounds genuinely bewildered. “I chose you and the kiss was definitely a one time thing and really it was Korra who started it in the first place. I mean, yeah, I kissed her back but it was for a second and I told her no. I said no, Asami. For you.” Mako's hands are gripping her biceps and this time she does nothing to stop him, arms still folded tightly against her chest.

 This time there's no way she can stop the tears and hell, he deserves to know how much he hurt her.

 “It shouldn't have even been a choice, Mako! I was your girlfriend, and you kissed another girl, and now I've caught you lying to me. So tell me the truth for once in your life – do you like Korra?”

 Mako's fingers dig into her arms. “No,” he answers brokenly. She draws her breath in sharply, prepared to battle against this new lie, but his next words stop her short. “No, I'm pretty sure I love her.” His hands drop away to hang limply at his side.

 Asami slaps him, because she's pretty sure there's nothing else to do. His words are ricocheting through her, shattering everything inside. He looks at her silently, one hand pressed against the red mark on his cheek. She's crying harder, but no sound escapes her mouth, and his image blurs. Neither of them says anything, the pain and the loss and the sadness radiating between them. She thinks that maybe she could have lived her whole life without hearing this particular truth, this inalienable statement that proves once and for all that while she was fucking Mako, he was falling in love with someone else.

 Some lies are worse than others. And some truths are even worse than the worst lie. In the end though, through her tears and the heaving emptiness that comes after she's shattered apart, Asami can't really bring herself to blame Mako. If Ikki hadn't said anything, if Korra hadn't gone missing, if Mako hadn't thrown himself into a frenzy of worry, it still would have come to this eventually. Asami isn't used to sharing.

 The tears aren't coming as fast anymore. Mako watches her cry, and she's pretty sure he's torturing himself with her distress. She kind of thinks he deserves it.

 After a few moments, Mako's voice cuts through the silence. “Asami, I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

 She scrubs her eyes with a fist and huffs. “Well, you did. I hope it was worth it.”

 “What do you mean?” Mako is still looking at her with a hand to his face, though the sting from her slap must have faded almost as soon as she had given it. Asami's tears are drying quickly and though their tracks can still be traced through the mascara on her cheeks, even that evidence will be gone soon enough.

 “I mean, you're terrible with feelings Mako. Don't screw up again.” Asami doesn't know if it's a blessing for what she knows will eventually happen, but she does know that it's a goodbye of sorts. She wonders if Mako will play dumb, assume that the statement is forgiveness and that they'll carry on as they had been. Part of her hopes that he does.

 He doesn't. He drops his hand to his side and flips both palms up in surrender. “I'm sorry I lied.”

“Me too,” she says, and means it. “I'll see you around, Mako.”

 She turns to go and he lets her.

 Asami Sato knew when someone was in love with the idea of her. It's only now that she realizes it's possible to be in love with the idea of someone else as well.


End file.
